Amazing Possibilities
by DoTheImpossible
Summary: Rory and Tristan meet differently…very differently, what will happen when they later meet again at Chilton?
1. All Roads Lead to Rome

Title: Amazing Possibilities

Rating: M

Summary: Rory and Tristan meet differently…very differently, what will happen when they later meet again at Chilton?

Setting: Summer before sophomore year

* * *

Chapter 1

"I'm sorry kid," Lorelai sympathetically said into the phone to her daughter. Plumping on the couch in the confines of her home, she found a comfortable position and prepared herself for a Johnny Depp marathon.

"It's not your fault, mom," Rory sighed into the hotel's phone as she was being engulfed by the over-sized, plush, love-seat, "There's no stopping Grandma."

"I know. But, God, if I only were able to afford to put you through Chilton myself, I would have never had to ask my parents for money. And it is just like me mother to take advantage of the situation," the more Lorelai talked about her mother, the more upset she got.

"It's okay mom," Rory assured her mother, "When I get back we'll have two weeks all to ourselves…well…except for Fridays," weekly Friday night dinners were also part of the deal.

"Yeah, but Emily has you for two months all to herself," Lorelai pouted.

"Rory dear! Let's go it's time for lunch!" Lorelai herd her mother in the background.

"Tell her to put a sock in it, Lorelai told Rory referring to Emily and her impatient yelling.

Rory rolled her eyes with a smile at her mother's antics, "I'll tell her after she pays for Chilton," Rory laughed.

"Good thinking, good thinking," Lorelai theatrically said.

"I'm so smart that I don't even need the big, fancy prep school."

"Good, so come home."

"After lunch; I'm starved."

"A girls got to eat."

"My point exactly."

The conversation took a serious turn, "Try to have fun okay?"

"Okay, mom."

"Oh! And when you go to the Colosseum, chip me off a piece," she told her daughter in all seriousness.

"I'll try my best," Rory promised.

"Love you kiddo,"

"Love you too, mom."

With that being said, mother and daughter hung up.

It killed Lorelai to have Rory suffer, but what had to be done had to be done; Rory was now going to start Chilton and that brought her one step closer to Harvard. Any mother would do anything to give their children the futures that they deserves, Lorelai is no different, even if that meant she had to ask her parents for money.

Asking her parents for money wouldn't have been so bad if her mother didn't take advantage of the situation. They could have been like normal people and just accept the fact that Lorelai would pay them back…with money. But no. Since they were now financially involved in their lives, they had to be actively involved as well. They had to have a weekly dinner, every Friday night, plus a phone call had to be placed once a week filling in the elder Gilmores on the younger Gilmore's week.

But that just wasn't enough.

Emily had decided that every young teenager should see Italy before starting his or her sophomore year of high school.

That is why Rory is spending ninety percent of her summer vacation with Emily Post.

Life just wasn't fair.

This better pay off in the long run.

* * *

"Was that your mother?" Emily asked her granddaughter with an underlying tone.

"Yeah," Rory replied as she followed her grandmother down the hall and to the elevators.

"Is she well?" Emily asked, but she could really care less.

She watched her grandmother press the button for the lobby, "She's fine, she says hi by the way," Rory said telling her a little white lie. She didn't like the idea of her family fighting. If telling a little white lie here and there would break some tension, then she was going to tell them.

Rory didn't miss the shocked expression on her grandmother's face that was soon covered with a small smile, "Well tell her I said hello the next time you talk to her," Emily said.

"Will do."

"Also tell her that the postcards are soon going to be flying in just how the letters did in the first Harry Potter movie."

Rory laughed, she couldn't believe what she was hearing, "Grandma, you've seen Harry Potter?"

The elevator doors opened and the two Gilmore girls stepped out and made their way through the lobby, "Blame your grandfather; he read the book and insisted that I watch the movie with him."

"Fascinating."

"You think that's fascinating," Emily said very excited, "Wait until you hear me speak Italian."

"Oh, no I can't wait," Rory told her with a smile.

Maybe the summer won't be so bad.

* * *

"So, what do you plan on doing for the rest of the day?" Janlen Dugrey asked his grandson.

Tristan smiled, "I don't know," he said taking a sip of his soda, "I was thinking of finding myself a nice Italian girl and--"

"You will not corrupt the Italians," Janlen quickly cut his grandson off, "Do you hear me?"

Tristan chuckled and took a bite of his bread roll, "Relax Gramps, I was just kidding."

"You kid too much, my boy," Janlen shook his head at Tristan with a small smile playing on his lips.

"What are your plans for today?" Tristan asked as he finished off his delicious Italian lunch; God bless the Italians and their food.

"I have a meeting at two--"

"Aw Gramps come on!" Tristan whined, "We're on vacation."

"Yes, but I still need to work."

"Then you're not on vacation," Tristan told him with a pointed look.

"Touché," he nodded his head in agreement, "Listen, why don't you come with me?"

"Uh…" business affairs weren't Tristan's thing.

"Calm down," Janlen laughed, "I'm not trying to pull you into the business, I just want to show you how things are done."

Thinking it over he decided that it couldn't kill him, "Sure, why not."

"All right then, let's be off," Janlen said as he waved his hand to get the waiter's attention.

With a smile, the waiter made his way over to their table, "Si, Signore?"

"Il conto, perfavore," Janlen said.

"Subito," the waiter replied.

"Grazie," Janlen thanked him, he then focused his attention on Tristan, "You need to learn to speak Italian."

"I do know how to speak Italian," with a smirk he then said, "Ciao, bella."

"You really are a Dugrey," Janlen smiled at his grandson.

Within minutes the waiter had returned with the check. After paying, the Dugreys were on their way to go.

"I'll meet you at the limo," Janlen told him, "I need to wash my hands."

"Alright," he laughed at his grandfather; he was a very clean man…freakishly clean.

After his grandfather had left, Tristan rose from his seat and took his first step to leaving the restaurant. With that one step he was able to collide with another person.

"Oh I'm sorry," he said; he didn't see her coming and then feeling stupid because he realized that she probably didn't understand him he said, "Mi dispiace." And his grandpa said he couldn't speak the language.

The first thing she said wasn't, 'Oh it's okay', instead she said, "Cool, you think I'm a native."

Tristan was speechless; this girl was absolutely beautiful.

Realizing that the girl was shifting nervously under his starring, he shook his head to break himself out of his trance, "Well I just figured…but I guess you're not."

Duh Dugrey.

"Nope, not Italian."

"Me neither," he lamely said.

"Tristan!" his grandfather nearly yelled his name, "I told you specifically not to corrupt the Italians."

"But--"

"Let's go!" Janlen ordered.

"I'll see you around," he told the girl that was standing in front of him.

"Maybe," she said with a shrug; she felt that it was impossible for that to happen.

"I will," he said with a definite tone.

He was so sure of himself that she couldn't look away. Her eyes stayed on him. She watched as he made his way over to the older man and overheard part of their conversation.

"You are something else, my boy, you know that?" the older man told the boy who she knew as was Tristan.

"Grandpa, she wasn't Italian," she heard Tristan defend himself from his grandfather.

She didn't hear the rest of the conversation; they were making their way out of the restaurant.

Still not being able to believe what had just taken place, she took a seat at an empty table and replayed out over again what had happened; it was surreal and he was gorgeously sexy.

"Rory, Rory, Rory dear, hello?" Emily said getting her attention, "Are you alright? Are you sick?"

"No, grandma," Rory answered, "I'm fine, just hungry."

"Oh good, you had me worried there for a second."

"Sorry," Rory replied picking up a menu and looked through it. She tried to focus on what was printed in front of her, but her mind wondered. It wondered back to the blonde with the blue eyes.

* * *

She stopped and marveled at how amazing this place was. Rome. It was once the strongest city in all of Europe and she was standing in one of its most historic places; the colosseum. She wished she could have seen the gladiators fight to the death which sometimes was for pure entertainment.

She had already taken a picture with the guy in the gladiator outfit outside the colosseum for Lorelai. So now the only thing left to do was break a piece of the historic landmark off.

This is why Rory had insisted that Emily stayed at the hotel and rested. She promised that they would return to the colosseum together when Rory wouldn't be taking a piece of it with her.

The things she would do for her mother.

She looked around and made sure that no one was watching. Pretending she was feeling the stone that served as a barrier to the pit where the fighting took place. She smiled when she realize that where her hand was resting there was a cracked and loose piece. Wiggling around she managed to separate it from the whole.

'This landmark is so old that it is just falling apart,' Rory thought, 'Obviously.'

Quickly she placed the souvenir into her pocket.

Mission accomplished.

"You're giving Americans a bad name," someone said from behind her.

Turning around to face the person that had caught her, she spoke, "They won't even realize that it's missing," she told him matter of factly.

"You've got a point," he smiled, "I'm Tristan by the way," he finally introduced himself.

"Rory," she said taking his extended hand and shaking it, they both ignored the spark that traveled through their hands and through their bodies, "Were you following me?"

"What makes you say that?" he smirked.

Rory couldn't believe how amazing he looked. She didn't think it was possible for someone to look that good. His hair was blonde and tousled and his eyes were an icy blue shade. From what she could see, he had the body of a god.

Hoping that he didn't notice her starring, which he did, she answered his question even though she answered it with a question of her own, "I mean, what are the chances that we'd run into each other again?"

"Very, very slim," he answered her question, "But I think this is fate's doing."

Rory scoffed; this boy thought he had a way with words, "Fate?"

"Yeah," he said shrugged as he nervously rubbed the back of his tanned neck, maybe this girl wouldn't be affected by his charm, "Anyways," he said changing the subject, "What would you need a piece of the colosseum for?"

"It's not for me," she told him, "It's for my mom."

"Your mom?"

"Yeah, don't ask. I can't even begin to explain her motives."

He raises his hands signaling that the subject was dropped.

"So," he began, "I walked past this little coffee shop on my way over here…" he trailed off to see what she thought of the idea.

"Coffee?" she asked; Tristan could have sworn her pupils dilated.

Bingo.

"Yeah," he then decided to take the chance, "You like coffee?"

"Like it?" she rhetorically asked, "I love it."

"I think I just found the way to your heart," Tristan joked with a smile as he lead himself and Rory to the colosseum's exit.

"I guess you have."

* * *

AN: Hate it? Love it? What did you think? Let me know!!!


	2. What Happens in Rome, Stays There

Chapter 2

"So, let me get this straight," Lorelai says very dramatically, "You met a boy, an American boy, in Italy."

"Yes," Rory rolled her eyes as she settled comfortably in bed.

"Some people have all the luck," Lorelai says disbelievingly.

"Mom--"

"So, technically, seeing as how you got yourself an American hottie in Italy, I should get an Italian Stallion here in America."

"Mom, he's not my boyfriend or anything."

"Yeah, but you're getting action – This is a summer fling!"

"We haven't done anything," Rory reasoned with her insane mother.

"You still have like a month or something to get it on!"

"You're crazy!"

"No, it's the eight cups of coffee, the two boxes of cookies and the king size bag of m&m's that I consumed in two hours," Lorelai blamed her craziness on the food and coffee.

"I don't know what's going to happen with me and Tristan," Rory honestly told her mother, "What ever happens, happens."

"Great attitude sweetheart!"

"So, mom--"

"You know what would be weird, like the Twilight Zone weird?" Lorelai's sugar and caffeine rush cut Rory off.

"What?" Rory said playing along.

"If when you went to Chilton, Tristan was there."

"Mom, there is no way--"

"Never say never," the mother sang.

"I didn't say never--"

"You just said it," Lorelai giggled like a little girl.

"No more sugar for you," Rory ordered.

Lorelai rolled her eyes; Rory's command did nothing, "You're like a cajillion miles away!"

"Mother."

It seemed as if Lorelai sobered up, "Oh no you did not just mother me."

"Oh yes I did, what are you going to do about it?" Rory challenged.

"Nothing, 'cause you're like a cajillion miles away, duh!"

"Okay, mom," Rory rolled her eyes, "This conversation has officially tired me out, I'm going to bed."

"Bed! But it's only seven o'clock--"

"In Connecticut yes, but in Italy it is one in the morning," Rory told her.

"Oh yeah," Lorelai sheepishly said with a giggle, "I forgot."

"Good night, mom."

"Night offspring."

Hanging up the phone, she scooted under the covers and found a comfortable position.

She loved her crazy mother.

* * *

"So, what's on today's agenda?" Rory asked after stepping off the elevator and making her way across the lobby towards Tristan.

"What makes you think I have an agenda?" he smirked as he greeted her with a soft kiss on her cheek, causing her to blush.

"Why do always answer my questions with a question?" she challenged him.

"Okay, okay," he said as he raised one hand in surrender as the other one snaked around her slender waist, "my bad."

Rory nodded in triumph, "So?"

He smiled a cheeky grin, "What was your question?"

"What's on today's agenda?" she repeated her question as she moved closer into his embrace, a move that did not go unnoticed by Tristan.

"I never have an agenda," he smirked,

"But the last few days you always had something to do,' she looked at him with furrowed brows.

"I was winging it," he shrugged.

"Huh."

"What?" he chuckled.

"You're a winger."

"That's a good thing?" he asked rather than stating.

"Yes, of course," she told him looking up at him.

"How so?" he questioned, completely curious with her reasoning.

"It shows that you're spontaneous and a risk taker."

"Spontaneous I get, but risk taker?" he asked as they were now out of Rory's hotel and walking down the ancient city of Rome.

"Yeah, you're risking looking like a fool," she simply tells him and then goes into explaining, "What if one of your spontaneous ideas sucked? Or what if your plans turned out completely horrible?"

"You're making me rethink about being spontaneous, you know that?" he playfully glared.

"Don't," she laughed, "It also shows that you're courageous."

"That's me," he says as he puckers out his chest.

"Oh please," she laughs as she goes to slap his chest.

Before she could remove her hand from his toned, hard chest, he grabbed her hand and held it in place. Doing so she was able to feel his heart beat, his rapidly beating heart.

He kept his eyes on her, silently communicating that she was the one doing that to him.

She didn't know why and she didn't know how, but Tristan was making _her_ more spontaneous.

Keeping her eyes still on his, she asks, "How about we go back to your room and watch some movies?"

He cleared his throat, fearing that his voice would betray him and show that he was shocked and nervous at the same time, "My room?"

Rory didn't look away, "Yeah."

"Okay," he nodded his head as he steered them to the direction of his hotel room.

* * *

The two were comfortably situated on his comfy king size bed. He was lying on his back with his hands underneath his head acting like a pillow as he watched her. She was sitting up with her legs tucked beneath her as she happily ate some delicious melt-in-your-mouth chocolate as she watched "Everybody loved Raymond" in Italian. She didn't understand everything that was being said, but she remembers what happens because she watched the show back home.

"I've known you for about a month now," Tristan said breaking the silence, "And your eating habits sill fascinate me."

"Is that why you're staring at me?" she asks him, with her eyes still on the television set.

He was shocked by her boldness, but quickly answered her question, honestly, "No, because you're beautiful."

Tearing her eyes away from the TV screen, she settled them onto Tristan's. With a smile she said, "You're not ugly either."

A big grin spread across his face, "Why thank you, Ms. Gilmore."

"I take it back."

"What? Why?" he asked dramatically.

"I literally saw your head getting bigger."

Tristan playfully glared and sat up, "You think you're funny."

"I try," she said blowing on her nails and then buffing them on her shirt.

"Oh do you now?" he rhetorically asked before attacking. He grabbed her by the waist and threw her on her back and began to tickle her sides, "Say it," he told her.

"Never," she breathed out between laughs.

"Say it," he continued his assault.

"Uncle!" she finally gave in; he was tickling her to death.

The mood in the room changed the second he stopped tickling her and looked into her eyes. His breath became shallow and he couldn't help but want to kiss her.

She held her breath; she wanted him to kiss her.

The position that they were in made it very easy for him to fulfill their wants and needs. She was on her back with his body covering most of hers. He kept his eyes on hers as he began to slowly lower his head. He was anticipating that she would protest, that she would push him off for moving too fast, but instead she didn't.

That was all the encouragement that he needed, he lowered himself and captured her lips with his, giving her a slow and sensual kiss.

Slowly Tristan moved his hand to gently caress her face as he kissed her, his heart beating terribly fast as he heard Rory moan into the kiss.

Without breaking the kiss she felt his hand start to gently explore her body. As his hand found and cupped her breast, she murmured unintelligibly. While busily strumming her nipple to erection, she felt his other hand find the front of her shorts. He seemed a bit hesitant to transgress that particular barrier, so she helped him along by grabbing his hand in hers and pressing it directly against her pussy.

She could sense his surprise, but he certainly didn't hesitate to start stroking her. She moaned and fumbled to pull off his shirt. She desperately needed his hand on her bare breasts, and sensing that, Tristan quickly and easily discarded her white tank top and her shorts. She received more than that when he removed her bra and his mouth latched onto her nipple and began a gentle suck that she was sure was meant to drive her absolutely crazy. Added to that was him gently pulling down her panties, his fingers brushing teasingly against her mound.

Rory didn't know what had come over her; she wasn't the type of girl who did this. She wasn't the type of girl who had the 'summer flings'. But the minute he looked at her and kissed her, she had lost control.

Locking eyes with her, he gently slid a finger into her opening. They groaned simultaneously. "God Rory," he murmured, "you are so wet."

She was almost embarrassed by the statement, but the look in his eyes told her plainly that it was a compliment. After a few moments of exploration he added another digit to the one already in her pussy. She felt slightly stretched, but the feeling was not altogether unpleasant. Of course, this was heavily aided by the fact that he had recommenced the gentle licking and sucking of her nipples. She threw her head back in pleasure, overwhelmed by the signals being sent to her by all points of her body's compass.

As for Tristan, his fingers had reached the barrier that was her hymen, and he was unsure of how to proceed.

He was shocked.

Stopping he ministrations he looked at her, not knowing how to go about this. He wanted her…needed her more than anything, but he would stop if she wasn't ready.

A soft gentle kiss to his lips and a silent nod that was given from Rory was all he needed.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered after having the opportunity at looking down at the woman beneath him.

She had been exposed to him for some time now, yet it was that statement that made her blush.

He had somehow managed to pull off his jeans and boxers somewhere in between kissing her nipples and rubbing her pussy, and he lined up his considerable erection with her small opening. Rory shivered, she feared the pain, but at the same time she was anticipating the pleasure that Tristan would entice in her.

He placed his hands at her waist and gentle massaged it, adding feather-light kisses to the valley of her breasts. Eventually he felt her relax, and was able to slip a few inches into her pussy. Rory gasped, but made no indication for him to stop, so grasping her waist a bit tighter he pressed himself in more firmly. When the head of his shaft bumped her hymen he knew they were at a point of no return. He drew back and with a short, hard thrust rendered the bit of membrane into oblivion.

Rory gave a small involuntary shriek as her innocence was torn away. It stung badly and she was unable to withhold a few tears. Being completely inside of her, Tristan stayed absolutely still.

He removed his hands from her waist and moved himself completely on top of her, covering his body with hers. Placing his forearms on either side of her to hold himself he lowered his mouth to her ear and whispered, "Are you okay?"

It was as if the concern in his voice slowly washed away the pain that she was feeling and filled her up with warmth and even more want.

She didn't trust her voice to speak so she nodded her head.

When she moved her hips a little, she found it to be a very nice sensation. Taking his cue, Tristan began a slow thrust inside her, careful not to go too fast. When Rory began reverse thrust, urging him on with whimpers and little breathy pants, he picked up the speed.

She was so wet and tight that he felt his orgasm approaching. Desperately he picked up the pace he listened to moaning.

"Oh…Tristan…" she breathed out his name.

It took everything inside of him not to let go.

He continued driving himself faster and deeper inside of her.

"Oh!" she moaned.

He felt her reaching her end. He pounded harder into her and he knew that he had sent her over. Her pussy clenched around his shaft and he felt his own orgasm overtake him.

When he could breathe more evenly, Tristan fell to the side and held Rory so that she was pressed against him. Wrapping his arms around her he kissed her forehead and rested his face in her hair. Lavender wafted up to him and he thought he might fall asleep.

He needed to make sure of one thing.

"Are you okay?" he repeated his question from before. He held his breath fearing that the answer this time might be different from the first time.

She sighed happily, "Yes."

"No regrets then?" Tristan asked sleepily.

She smiled in the dark. "No regrets."

Satisfied, they both fell into an exhausted sleep.


	3. Settled Worries

**Chapter 3**

The thick and expensive curtains were drawn back so the sun brightly shined into Tristan's hotel room. He could feel the warmth on his skin.

Stretching his body to a full and satisfying stretch, one of his eyelids slowly opens. With his one eye he scans the bright, blindingly lit room…and it hits him.

Last night.

Rory.

Him and Rory.

Together.

It was too early in the morning for him to form full logical thoughts, but the pieces that he formed made sense.

At this point, both of his eyes are open and he turns his head to his right. Instead of seeing a beautiful sleeping woman at his side, he just sees the other half of the bed…empty.

Springing up from the bed, Tristan's mind begins to rapidly race.

'Maybe she's in the bathroom,' he thought.

"Rory," he calls out her name.

But to Tristan's dismay there was no answer.

'Maybe she didn't hear me,' he thinks coming up with another excuse.

"Rory?" he says her name a tad bit louder as it comes out in question form.

It finally begins to sink in; she wasn't there.

Maybe she did regret it. Why wouldn't she? She had lost her virginity to a stranger.

Maybe he didn't please her good enough.

"Pfft!" he snorted, "Of course I pleased her; I'm Tristan Dugrey," he said out loud mainly to try and convince himself.

One thing was for sure, he was going to get to the bottom of it.

He got out of bed, got out a clean pair of boxers from the dresser drawer and slipped them on. He went towards the closet to get out a pair of jeans, but stopped in his tracks.

Tristan could barely breathe; it felt has if he got hit head on by a Mack truck.

They didn't use protection. They got so caught in themselves, that they didn't use protection.

"Fuck," he cursed to an empty hotel room.

* * *

Emily Gilmore walked out a little quaint boutique with four bags in each hand. She needed to leave in a hurry because if she didn't, she would have ended up buying the entire shop!

She stepped out of the shop and closed the door. As soon as she turned to make her way back to the hotel, she unpleasantly bumped into someone. Luckily the eight bags acted like a cushion.

"Mi scusi, Signora," the man quickly began to apologize.

"Non fa niente…" Emily trailed off as she looked up to see who the voice belonged to; it sounded so familiar, "Janlen?" she questioned.

"Emily Gilmore," the old man greeted with a smile, "What a pleasant surprise. How have you been?"

"Can't complain," she brightly smiled, "And yourself?"

"Not bad, not bad at all," he told her, "And Richard? How is he doing?"

"Working, as usual."

"We must keep busy," he smiled, he then took notice to the bags that she was carrying in her hands, "Here, let me help," he told her as he took half the bags off of her hands.

"Oh it's quite alright," Emily tried to protest, but failed miserably.

"I don't mind," Janlen kindly smiled, "Besides, I want to." Together the two made their way down the street and towards Emily's hotel.

"Well, thank you," she smiled.

"Did you purchase the entire boutique?" he chuckled.

"Almost, that's why I was out of there in such a hurry," she confessed, "I mostly bought some things for my granddaughter, Rory," Emily thought now was the perfect opportunity to brag about her.

"Lorelai's daughter," he said, "How is Lorelai?" he asked, honestly interested.

"She hasn't changed a bit," Emily said, not sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"That's good, that daughter of your is quite a character."

"That she is," Emily said, "Anyways, Rory is here on vacation with me."

"Really? Is she enjoying herself?"

"I believe so, who wouldn't enjoy Rome?"

"Touché."

"Well this is me," Emily announces as they arrive in front of her hotel.

"Alright then," he states, "It was a pleasure bumping into to you. When we get back to the states, we must have dinner."

"Definitely," she beamed.

"I'll talk to you soon," he told her before turning and making his way back to his place.

"Goodbye," she says as she turned and pulled open the door to enter the hotel.

**_Meanwhile…_**

He continued to roughly knock on her room door; not giving a rat's ass that he was disturbing the peace.

He needed to talk to her.

The annoying banging came to a stop as the door swung open.

"Tristan," Rory smiled.

He didn't even bother to return the greeting; he just stormed in and began pacing back and forth.

Confused, Rory closed the door and faced the nervously angry, pacing Tristan, "Um…is everything okay?"

Tristan let out a humorless chuckled and smirked, "I should be asking you the same thing seeing as how you just picked up and left without so even a a note or a nudge saying, 'yo I'm out'." He ranted.

Rory couldn't help but laugh.

"I'm so glad that you find this funny," he stopped pacing and stood in front of her; you could practically see the smoke coming out of his ears.

"I'm sorry," she says stifling a giggle, "This is not funny," she tells him, "This is actually cute?"

"Cute?" he questions sarcastically.

"You're worried," she states sure of herself.

"No, not worried," he corrected her, "Just wondering – you weren't there when I woke up."

She takes a step towards him, "I meant what I said last night…no regrets--"

He cuts her off, "Then why--"

"I needed to get back here before my grandma woke up," she answered his unasked question.

"You could have woken me up," he quietly tells her as he visibly relaxes and rests his forehead on hers as he places his hands on her waist.

"Have you seen yourself sleeping?" she asks defending herself.

He chuckles, "No."

"Well if you have, you would know why I didn't dare to disturb you."

"Why?" his smile broadens.

"You're too cute," she admits.

His reply was a soft kiss on the lips.

"Yeah?" he asked barely above a whisper.

"Oh yeah," she smiles into the kiss that she gives him.

But soon the couple was rudely interrupted.

"Rory?" her grandmother knocked on the door, "Rory, it's your grandmother."

"Duh," Tristan says and Rory quickly clasps her hand over his mouth.

"Yes grandma, uh…I'm getting dressed," Rory stammers.

"Oh alright, come into my room when you're finished," she basically yells through the door, "I want you to try on some things."

"Ok grandma."

"Alright," the couple listened as the older woman's footsteps were no longer heard.

"I think the coast is clear, "Tristan says against her hand. And when he's done saying that, he gives her hand a quick lick.

"Ewww!" she laughs as she wipes her hand on his shirt.

He takes a hold of her hand.

"Rory, um…I need to tell you something," he began, "I'm not sure if you know, but…we…uh, last night…" he didn't know how to tell her,

But Rory knew exactly what he was trying to say. Smiling she softly tells him, "I'm on the pill."

"Oh…" for a second it was as if he didn't know what the hell she was talking about; he was so nervous. But hten he got it; birth control, "Oh!"

"Yeah," she laughed as she blushed.

"So we're good?" he asks.

"We're good," she smiles up at him.

"Alright, well, I'm going to go so that you can have some girl time with your grandmother," he said laughing at the thought.

"You're so kind," sarcasm was dripping from every word.

She lead him to the door and he gave her a soft and tender kiss, "I'll see you later?"

"That's a possibility," she smirked as she opened the door and pushed him out, "Buh-bye now," she said with a wave as she closed her hotel room door.

He stared at the door in shock, "That was cold."

"Who are you?" he heard a woman's voice coming from his left.

Tristan froze.

It was Rory's grandmother.

"What were you just doing in my granddaughter's room? Were you in there this entire time?"

"Mi scusi," Tristan spoke Italian, pretending that he didn't understand English, "Non ti capisco," he told her as he began taking steps away from her.

"What do you mean you don't understand me?" she rhetorically asked, "I just heard you speaking English; you're a terrible liar."

Tristan just stupidly shrugged his shoulders pretending that she was speaking some foreign language as he continued to back away from Rory's grandmother.

"Arrivederci," Tristan quickly said and then turned and, made his way down the corridor and into the waiting elevator.

Within seconds of the elevator's doors closing, Rory's door swung open, "Grandma," she stated.

"Rory, who was that boy?" Emily Gilmore was not one to beat around the bush.

"What boy?" Rory was nervous, but his it well with confusion.

"The one who was just outside your room."

"I don't know grandma, maybe he got the wrong room," Rory said trying to get her grandma off the topic.

"Maybe," she said a bit uneasy, "I heard him speak English and then when I spoke to him in English, he spoke to me in Italian saying that he didn't understand me."

Rory chuckled at the thought of Tristan as he talked to her grandmother, but covered it up by saying, "Italian people are so entertaining."

"Something was off about that boy."

"Don't worry about it too much grandma," Roy said as she stepped out of her room and shut the door behind herself. She linked her arm with her grandmother's and lead her to her hotel room that was just a couple of doors down, "Come on, I want to see what you bought."

"Oh!" Emily's eyes shined brightly with excitement, "You're just going to love what I bought you, they are simply divine."

"I'm sure they are," Roy smiled, happy that the diversion worked.

Now she just couldn't wait to tease Tristan and hear his thoughts on this particular situation


	4. Who Would Have Thought?

**Chapter 4**

Summer romances were just that. Summer romances. They only occurred throughout the summer.

If these romances were carried out into the fall, winter and spring, they wouldn't last. They wouldn't have that initial spark that they had in the summer. The heat of the summer is what kept the spark ignited. The other seasons were just not warm enough for that spark to stay alive.

Do to this philosophy, Rory lied.

She lied to Tristan.

He had asked her if what they had was going to continue seeing as how they both resided in Connecticut. Both Rory and Tristan were excited when they found out that they didn't live far from each other. But then as Rory's overly active mind went to work, she started having her doubts.

After he had asked her about their future together, Rory lamely told him that they should just enjoy the little time that they had left and worry about the future at the last possible minute.

Tristan's mind and heart was set. It made sense that they would continue to see each other once the summer was over and they were back in the states. He didn't mind driving thirty some minutes to see her; she was worth it.

She told him that her plane left Saturday morning.

That was the lie that she told.

Her plane actually took off Friday morning.

By lying to him, Rory wouldn't be meeting up with him for the plans that they had made and the talk that they were going to have about where they stood after the summer.

She didn't want to, but it had to be done…it just had to. She didn't want to hurt him and if she was, she didn't want to witness it.

"Cheer up Rory dear," Emily Gilmore's voice rang through Rory's ears, "We've still got two more days in this beautiful, magnificent city."

"I know," Rory said, quickly coming out of her deep thoughts. Trying her best to put on a smile she says, "I guess I'm just going to miss it here."

That wasn't a lie; she really was going to miss it. She was going to miss walking around the ancient, culture-filled streets. She was going to miss the delicious food. And she was definitely going to miss the time that she had spent with Tristan. She would never forget all of the amazing times that they shared together. She was going to miss him.

"Have you packed your bags yet?" her grandmother asked.

"Yup, I'm all packed and ready to go."

"You wouldn't mind if I start packing after lunch, do you?' Emily asked, "I just have so much! I might have to buy more luggage!"

"I don't mind."

The time to herself would allow her to get her thoughts together. She also needed to get her emotions in order. She couldn't—she wouldn't let what she was feeling for Tristan affect her. She wouldn't allow it.

* * *

She lay comfortably on the plush bed. Her head was situated perfectly on one of the fluffy pillows as her left arm was slung over her eyes. By doing that, she figured that the thoughts she was having about Tristan would go away. Unfortunately for her, she was having absolutely no luck.

Everything about the blonde-haired boy she thought about.

Rory thought about the way his lips twitched into a smirk, the way he absent-mindedly played with her hand when they would have their long talks about everything and anything. She also thought about how it felt when she ran her hands through his soft, tousled hair.

Those thoughts lead her to thinking about his lips on hers, his hot breath on her neck, his hands roaming aimlessly around her body.

She then began thinking about him on top of her, breathing heavily and moving rhythmically above her.

Her phone vibrating on the bedside table broke her out of her dirty thoughts.

She removed her arm from her eyes and reached over to the nightstand and retrieved her phone. Looking at the small screen a smile crawls to her face.

Tristan had sent her a text message.

Flipping the little silver phone open, she read what he had to say.

_Hello beautiful._

Her smile grew and her fingertips went to typing her reply.

**Hey what r u up to?**

She pressed send and waited for his response.

A minute or two went by before her phone vibrated onceagain.

_Keepin gramps company at his boring meeting. U?_

She figured she should tell him the truth; how could it hurt?

**Thinking about you.**

Rory imagined him smirking as he read her text.

_Really now? What about me?_

**Everything.**

_Details, miss journalism, details._

**Ur smirk, u playing with my hands, ur hand.**

_Ur leaving out the good stuff. Don't be a Mary._

'A Mary, huh?' she thought.

He wanted details; she was going to give him details.

**I was thinking about us, together, in your bed…naked.**

Rory nervously pressed send and bit her lip in anticipation on what he was going to say. She had no idea what came over her.

_Go on._

These two small, simple words sent an electrifying shiver through her body and an ache in her core.

**U panting on top of me as u move in and out of me at a perfect slow pace**

_R u trying to kill me?_

She read the text and let a giggle escape her lips; she was having fun.

**U asked what I was thinking.**

_But I never thought that ur thoughts would give me a hard on while I'm at a meeting with my grandpa._

His confession made her ache grow.

Rory was about to reply, but Tristan sent her another text.

_How about we get together tonight?_

**What did u have in mind?**

_idk…surprise me._

She stared at the screen in shock; he just put the ball in her court.

**I'll see what I can do.**

_I'm sure you'll succeed. Bye Mary…lol._

**Later.**

It only took Rory a few minutes to think of what the two were going to be doing tonight.

She flipped her phone shut and smiled to herself; she just hoped she didn't chicken out.

* * *

Stepping out of the shower, he heard knocking at his door. Quickly grabbing a towel, he wrapped it around his glistening wet skin and headed to see who was at the door.

He hoped that it would be Rory, but then he quickly got that out of his head because Rory wouldn't just show up at his hotel without first giving him a heads up.

But swinging the hotel room door open, Rory had proved him wrong.

"Hey," she smirked as she freely allowed her eyes to check out his body. She watched the droplets of water slowly trickling down his lean, toned, tan torso. They traveled down his chest to his abs and were absorbed into the small white towel that was loosely draped around his waist.

Rory couldn't help let out a chuckle; she had amazing luck, "You have just made this so much easier for me."

"How so?" he probed as he stepped to the side, giving her enough room to enter.

She waited for him to shut, and lock, the door before gently placing her hand on his abs. She smiled up at him as his muscles involuntarily flexed underneath her touch. Painstakingly slow, her hands traveled down to the top of the towel. Taking a hold of it, she un-tucked it and let it drop to the floor.

Innocently looking up at him she smiled, "Oops."

"Cute," he chuckled.

Without a word or any warning, Rory slowly got on her knees and got a hold of his partially erect penis.

Her head descended between his thighs, and suddenly, he felt his cock being engulfed by her warm, wet mouth. She began to rub her fingernails lightly along the insides of his thighs. He had never felt anything like it before. Heavenly waves of pleasure washed over him as he watched Rory suck him. She would begin by holding the tip of his dick in her mouth, and swirling her tongue all around the head. Tristan became dizzy with the sensation. Then, slowly, her lips would travel the length of his shaft, burying the head of his cock in the back of her throat, while her tongue darted out to gently caress his balls. A few moments later, her mouth would begin a wet retreat back to the end of his dick, where the process began all over again. After only a few minutes, Tristan groaned in ecstasy. He knew that he couldn't last long.

"Oh god, Rory…I…shit."

Rory continued her assault as her eyes connected with Tristan's.

He felt the pressure building in his balls, but before reaching the edge, Rory pulled off his throbbing member.

"Jesus, Rory…" he gasped, as his breathing became ragged.

"Mmm hmm," she hummed, as she stood up.

"I think you're wearing too much clothes," he told her as he began to undress her.

"I think you know what to do," she seductively said.

Within seconds her clothes were carelessly discarded on the hotel room floor and Tristan had her up against the door.

Tristan grinned at her, "You're incredible," he told her.

"You think?" she coyly looked up at him with her big blue eyes.

"I know," he breathed as he lowered his head and fused her lips to his.

Breaking the kiss, Rory looked at him lustily, putting her hands on his shoulders, Tristan put his hands on her thighs and lifted her up. She wrapped her long legs around his torso, and sank down onto his erect cock. Tristan was so hard that his cock was standing straight up. He felt her warmth pressing against his hardness, and she shifted a bit, allowing him to penetrate her with ease. Tristan gasped as he felt his dick enter her moist tunnel, her hot cunt clamping around his manhood like a velvet vise.

Tristan began to slowly thrust in and out of her, and between her moans, Rory began to match the rhythm of his hips. The sensation of her pussy sliding up and down his shaft was almost overwhelming. With Rory feeling so good, Tristan wasn't sure that he could hold out any longer. That familiar ache that they had come to know so well was reaching its peak. Rory was losing control and couldn't take it anymore.

"Oh God! Tristan please!" she nearly begged him.

He held on to her hips and tried to match her thrust for thrust.

"C'mon, baby," he growled into her ear.

"Oooh yes!"

"Rory," he panted.

"Tristan," she whispered so erotically.

That's all that it took.

His cocked twitched and let loose. He felt her pussy walls contract tightly around his cock, as she buried her head on his shoulder, moaning loudly as her orgasm hit. They remained there, up against the door, as their bodies rocked with convulsions.


	5. The Real Fun Now Begins

Chapter 5

"So from a scale from one to ten, how excited are you?" Lorelai asked her daughter as she bounced into the kitchen. Joining Rory at the table she began sipping at the cup of coffee that was waiting for her.

"Nine point seventy-five," Rory replied with a cheery smile as she shoved the rest of the pop-tart in her mouth.

"Seriously?" Lorelia looked at Rory disbelievingly after she almost choked on her delicious coffee.

"It would have been a perfect ten if you hadn't shortened my skirt," Rory said giving her mother a pointed look.

"Relax," the elder Gilmore said with a wave of her hand, "Yours will still be the longest at that new Preppy school of yours."

A silence then settled between mother and daughter. Lorelai was contemplating on whether or not she should ask that question that was on her rmind. For the past two weeks Rory had been walking around the house basically moping. Lorelai had a feeling that it had to do with Tristan, but she didn't know if she should ask.

"So," Lorelai began, breaking the heavy silence, "You okay?"

Rory couldn't help it; she shifted uncomfortably in the chair. She didn't want to get into this, again, now. She was looking forward to her first day at Chilton.

"Yeah, mom," she sighed.

"Because you know that you can talk to me," Lorelai continued.

"I know," Rory said as she stood up from the table, "I should get going. I wouldn't want to be late on my first day."

"No, of course not," Lorelai told her, a bit upset with how the conversation had gone. She knew that her daughter was no longer a virgin, but she never thought that that would change Rory. Lorelai knows that something happened in Rome, that she wasn't telling her, "Good luck, Sweetie."

"Thanks. Bye, mom," with that being said Rory was on her way towards the bus stop.

* * *

"Here is your schedule; you are to attend every class and being on time is a must. Your textbooks will be given to you by your teachers, today, upon entering the classroom," the short old lady told Rory as she sat in the oversized chair behind the oversized desk.

"Thank you," Rory politely smiled, but mentally rolled her eyes as she took the papers that the secretary was handing her.

"Have a nice day," was the last thing the lady told Rory before returning back to her computer and typing away.

"Yeah, you too," Rory lied.

With that being said, Rory made her way out of the office and stepped into the nearly empty hallway. Quickly scanning her schedule, she confirms that she has British Literature first period…in room 408: she had absolutely no idea where that was. But she definitely knew that she didn't want to use the map that was given to her. But if she didn't she was going to be late, and tardiness at Chilton Prep was a no, no.

Sighing, she slipped the map from between the other papers that the secretary had given her. Finding the main office on the map, she then located room 408. Memorizing the route to her first period, she put the map away and started to make her way to British Lit. Unfortunately for her, she didn't get very far.

"So you're the new kid," a blonde girl who seemed she was on a mission said to Rory; this girl came out of nowhere.

"…who just had a heart attack," Rory responded clutching her chest, "Where did you come from?" she asked as an afterthought.

"Magic," the blonde responded; her voice void of emotion.

"Interesting," Rory played along, "Is there any way you can stop time so that I'm not late for my first class?"

The girl slightly smirked, but then confusion instantly settled on her face.

"What?" Rory asked.

"I don't hate you," the blonde stated a bit disappointed.

"Do you usually hate people you don't know?'

"Yes."

"Okay…well--"

"I'm not crazy," the pesky, odd girl quickly cut Rory off.

"I didn't say--"

"You were thinking it."

"Stop reading my mind," Rory told her pretending to be upset with her.

"I'm Paris," the girl finally introduced herself with a smile; her smile looked odd, Rory assumed she didn't smile often.

"Rory," she said shaking Paris's extended hand.

"So where are you headed?"

"Room 408."

"British Lit?'

"Yeah."

"I'll walk with you; we're in the same class."

"Great."

"Is that sarcasm?" Paris questioned.

"You're the mind reader…you tell me."

* * *

_**The day has come to an end  
The sun is over my head  
My polyamorous friend  
You got me in a mess of trouble again**_

_**So  
Just when you think that you're all right  
I'm crawling out from the inside  
I never hurt anyone  
I never listen at all**_

They've come to get me again  
The cloud is over my head  
My polyamorous friend  
You got me in a mess of trouble again

Breaking Benjamin poured out of Tristan's speakers and flooded his Porsche as he drovehimself to school. As usual, he was late, but it was obvious that he didn't give a damn.

Expertly parking his baby, he stepped out and retrieved his jacket that was part of his uniform, and walked towards the school, still wearing his aviator sunglasses. To others it might have seemed as if he was strutting to school: he had the 'it' factor.

Upon entering the school, already twenty minutes late, he scanned the lockers and searched for his own. Once he found it, he spun the combination and popped it open. He didn't have much to put in there: What 'cool' kid brought in school materials on the first day? Definitely not Tristan. All he had to put in were his glasses, that he is just taking off and a picture that he pulls out from the inside pocket of his jacket that he was holding.

He longingly looks at the picture.

It was a picture that Rory had taken of the two of them when they were at the beach. He was seated on the beach towel and she had situated herself between his legs. Leaning back into his tan and tone chest, she smiled and told him to say cheese…he said it, but in Italian.

That had been an amazing day.

His icey blue eyes tenderly scanned the picture. They travelled carefully on every part of her exposed skin.

Every time he looked at pictures of her, or every time he thought about her, his heart always fluttered and a smile makes a way to his face. But then, the smile disappears, something pulls down on his heart and he gets a sickening feeling in his stomach.

The girl had done damage. She broke him. Completely shattered him.

Tearing his eyes away from the picture he angrily threw it in his locker and slammed it shut, causing an echo to disperse throughout the empty hallway.

Slipping his jacket on, he bitterly went to his first period class: British Literature, Room 408.

_**So  
Just when you think that you're all right  
I'm crawling out from the inside  
I never hurt anyone  
I never listen at all**_

_**Just stay away from the white light  
I'd say your worst side's your best side  
I never hurt anyone  
I never listen at all**_

Well how do you know?  
Well how do you know?  
Well how do you know?  
Well how do you know?


	6. For Your Entertainment

Rory was standing in front of the classroom, introducing herself, when the classroom door swung open allowing the King of Chilton to walk in. Naturally, all eyes were on him, except for Rory. Hers were still focused at the end of the classroom, hating being in front of her fellow peers.

"Mr. Dugrey, it's so nice of you to finally grace us with your presence," Mr. Medina said with false excitement.

At the mention of his name, Rory tore her focus from the back wall and brought her attention to the blonde boy standing to her right, a few mere feet away. The couple stood at the front of the room staring at each other, unable to speak.

The trance that the couple had gotten themselves into was not lost on the rest of the class. Their interest was sparked and Rory and Tristan had their undivided attention.

Rory was happy to see him, so happy that her heart was pounding uncontrollably, but as fast as if started, it came to a stop. Memories of what had occurred overseas flooded her mind. Guilt quickly washed over her.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Tristan states with such animosity that he had a few students jump in their seats.

He was shocked to see her. She knew that Chilton was where he went to school and she never once mentioned that she was going to be attending it: He would have remembered if she did.

Rory turned her attention away from Tristan's hurt and questioning eyes in guilt and embarrassment.

She couldn't take looking at him.

Karma was a bitch. Honestly.

**FLASBACK**

_"So I'll pick you up tomorrow at noon for lunch," Tristan tells her with a grin, but they both knew that that grin was being used to mask his sadness: Tomorrow was the last day that they had together. The couple had yet to discuss what would become of them after the summer came to an end._

_Forcing out a small smile, Rory tells him kindly, "Cheer up Tris, we still have tomorrow."_

_Tristan let out a long and steady frustrated sigh, "But what about after tomorrow?"_

_"We'll talk about it tomorrow," Rory calmly tells him, but he can sense the edginess in her voice._

_"Okay," he unwillingly lets the subject drop, "So, tomorrow at noon?"_

_"Tomorrow at noon," she confirms._

_"I'll see you tomorrow then," he tells her after placing a gentle kiss on her plump lips._

_"You will," she smiles at how sweet the kiss was._

**END FLASHBACK**

"Tell me that I'm seeing things," Tristan commands; speaking directly to Rory.

At this point, the entire class was definitely intrigued. Tristan, the king of Chilton, had connections to the new girl.

"Do you know Ms. Gilmore, Mr. Dugrey?" Mr. Medina asked trying to diffuse a possible confrontation that was bound to arise.

"Do I know Mary?" Tristan smirks, "Or should I add a Mags at the end of that?" he bitterly, rhetorically asks, answering the teachers question in his own way as his eyes never leave the beautiful brunette standing in front of him.

Embarrassed and angry, Rory finally speaks to him, "Enough, Tristan."

"What?" he innocently began, "Is something the matter?"

"Mr. Dugrey," the teacher interjected.

"I'm sorry," Rory sincerely told him, looking him in the eye.

"Damn right you're sorry," Tristan was beyond angry, "Why'd you do it?"

"I never meant-"

"Never meant to what? Huh Rory? Never meant to be a bitch?"

Enough was enough. Tristan might have forgotten that their classmates were watching them, but Rory didn't. This was her first day at a new school and Tristan had managed to destroy any possible chance at having a normal life at Chilton Prep.

"You were using me," she states as her voice got slightly louder.

"That's bullshit and you know it," he angrily laughs at her humorless statement.

Before either one of them at the chance to utter another word, the bell signaling the end of class rang.

"Saved by the bell," Mr. Medina announced to the class that was groaning; things were just heating up. Everyone was dying to find out what exactly went down between Rory and Tristan.

And before Rory had the chance to pull Tristan aside to talk to him, he had stormed out.

Seeing him so upset, Rory regrets the way she handed things back in Italy. She never meant to hurt him; she just figured that what she did had to be down. They would never have worked in 'the real world'.

* * *

AN: Alright ladies and gentlemen, I just wanted to start off by profusely apologizing to every single one of you. No idea if anyone is still interested in this story, but I felt like I should at least try and finish things. So this was the next installment, I know it's extremely short, but at least it's something. Next chapter will be longer. I promise.

So read and enjoy. And of course let me know what you all think.

P.S. If anyone of you want to see something in the story, let me know because I'm having a bit of difficulty continuing. So if you want to help me, I would greatly appreciate it.

Peace and Love.


	7. Behind Closed Doors

AN: So I hope this makes all of my readers happy.. the story is longer. Anyways I just wanted to say that I obviously do not own Shrek. So read, enjoy, and please let me know what you thought.

* * *

It was obvious that she knew each and every word of this movie. She proved this by quoting the eccentric character's lines. When she did so, she changed her voice to imitate the character.

"Quick," Lorelai imitates Shrek, "tell a lie!"

"What should I say?" she asked in her best Pinocchio voice.

Rory had to admit that her mother's Donkey imitation was her favorite.

"Say something crazy…like you're wearing ladies underwear," Lorelai said sounding exactly like Donkey.

Pinocchio remained silent when his nose didn't grow. Shrek then asks, "Are you?"

Lorelai not only began sounding like Pinocchio, but she shook her head appalled, "I most certainly am not."

Now Pinocchio's nose extends.

"It looks like you most certainly am are," Lorelai says like Donkey which has Rory involuntarily chuckling.

"I am not!" Lorelai copies Pinocchio.

His nose extends once again.

Lorelai then gets a Spanish accent when she personifies Puss-in-Boots, "What kind?"

"It's a thong!" Lorelai exclaims as her inner Gingerbread Man comes out.

"Mom!" Rory exclaims herself.

"What?" Lorelai asks truly innocent.

Rory shook her head at her mother, "Is it really necessary that you quote each and every line of Shrek?"

"Yes."

Rory gave her a disbelieving look.

"Rory, that was the best part of the entire movie!"

"I understand, but-"

"But nothing, oh beautiful daughter of mine," Lorelai tells her, "That was the first time in nearly a week that I saw you smile. I missed it."

Rory couldn't help but look away from her mother: She was absolutely right. Her confrontation with Tristan, that took place in front of their entire English class, had put her in a real deep funk. She tried to talk to him on numerous occasions, and on each time he completely blew her off. Tristan wanted absolutely nothing to do with her.

Each and every time he basically told her to go fuck herself, the look on his face and in his eyes, killed Rory inside.

The simple thought of knowing how much she had hurt him, brought tears to her eyes. She refused to let them escape. She took a deep breath and steadily let it out.

"Sweetie-" Lorelai began but didn't have a chance to say what it was that she wanted to say because Rory didn't want to hear it.

"Mom, I get where you're coming from, I really do, it's just that I've tried everything possible and he wants nothing to do with me."

Rory had filled her mother in on everything.

Everything.

After the big showdown in English, Rory wasn't herself and Lorelai noticed.

Lorelai wouldn't be Lorelai if she didn't insist on knowing what was wrong. Lorelai also wouldn't be the amazing mother that she is if she didn't insist on knowing.

"Obviously not everything because the blonde Greek god is still not talking to you," Lorelai tells her and then has a thought, "Wait, is he an Italian god because you met him in Italy. But wait, do the Italians have gods like the Greeks do?"

Rory ignored her mother's pointless babble and kept to the point, "Mom, I know he's not talking to me and the reason he's not talking to me is because he does not want to."

"Yes he does."

"No he does not."

"Rory, dear," Lorelai said sounding like her mother, "yes he does."

"How?"

"What?"

"How do absolutely, positively know that he does want to, in fact, talk to me?"

Lorelai dramatically rolled her eyes, "Why wouldn't he?"

"Mom! Are you serious?" Rory asked disbelievingly.

The conversation took a serious turn, "Rory, listen," Lorelai began, "You hurt the kid, there's no doubt about that-"

"Thanks mom," Rory interrupts her with sarcasm.

"But," the older Gilmore continues, "That doesn't mean that the feelings that he had for you completely vanished. He's hurt; his pride took a major blow."

"I know," Rory admits quietly.

"Then do something about it."

"Have you not heard a single word that I have been speaking? He doesn't want to talk to me. I've tried everything."

"Have you tried locking him in the school bathroom?"

* * *

Sitting in her English class with Tristan sitting two seats behind her, Rory was unable to focus on what Mr. Medina was lecturing. All she was thinking about was Tristan. Today was going to be the day that she would finally get through to him. She was not going to take no as for answer.

Rory Gilmore was determined.

The bell rang that signaled the end of class. Rory didn't even bother trying to stop Tristan. Besides, when she looked up from her blank notebook, she saw Tristan exiting the classroom.

Rory couldn't help, but let out a frustrated sigh.

She got out of her seat and made her way into the hallway with Paris close behind. Today was the day Paris was going to butt in. She lasted nearly an entire week before putting her opinion where it was not needed, nor wanted.

"So what went down between you and lover boy?" Paris asked, once Rory reached her locker.

"Hello Paris," Rory said as she finally got her locker open.

"Listen, I don't have time for the pleasantries, I've waited a week for the scoop," Paris says matter-a-factly, "I've heard many rumors, so I want the cold, hard truth."

"Rumors?" Rory decided not to give her what she wanted; she decided to play with Paris for a bit. She just wanted to see how far she can push her before she exploded, "Oh please fill me in on some of the juice. You have gotten me interested."

"Well," Paris began even though she didn't want to be talking, she wanted to be hearing the truth from the horse's mouth, "there was one where you both joined the mile high club."

"Interesting…please, continue," Rory encouraged her as she finished with her locker and now leaned patiently against it.

"There was another one where you two met in Italy and after having your way with Dugrey, you decided that the Italian men do it better."

Before Rory could put an end to the ridiculous words that were coming out of her friend's mouth, the bell beat her to it.

"Damn, now you made me late for class."

Rory couldn't help but roll her eyes, "You made yourself late with all of your nonsense."

"Whatever," Paris said before storming away. Rory remained where she was for a few seconds longer. She didn't feel like going to class. It was absolutely pointless: she wouldn't be able to pay attention. She wouldn't be able to pay attention in any class until she worked things over with Tristan.

Speak of the devil: Rory watched as Tristan appeared around the corner. She kept her blue eyes on him as he made his way into the boy's bathroom.

Her mother's words popped into her head.

"No," she said out loud to a deserted hallway, "I couldn't possibly – it's insane."

It was her last chance.

Keeping her head held high, Rory went into the boy's bathroom and quickly locked the door behind her. After doing so she made sure no one else was in there: It was just her and Tristan.

Tristan was drying his hands when he saw her.

"Am I in the wrong bathroom?" he asked confused.

"No," Rory said with a shaky breath.

"Then you're in the wrong bathroom," he said.

Rory watched him; he didn't seem upset, he just seemed sad. Which made this entire situation even worse for Rory.

"We need to talk Tris," Rory finally began.

"I don't want to talk," he briskly says as he tries to make his way out of the bathroom. Rory's small hand on his chest stops him. "Rory," he wants to protest, but instead her name comes out as a soft, painful moan.

"You can't avoid me forever," she whispers.

"I can try," he was fighting every bone in his body not to press her up against the door and have his way with her then and there.

"You'll fail," she told him with such confidence that it turned the couple on even more.

"You sure about that?" he asked as his famous smirked played on his lips.

"Mhm," she says as she pulls him closer to her. He didn't put up a fight. He couldn't put up a fight. He missed her. He wanted her. He needed her.

This wasn't Rory's plan, but the connection that these two people have is so strong that neither of the two could possibly think straight. Rory wanted to – needed to talk things out with him for what she did back in Italy. To yell at him for doing what he did to her in front of the class. But at this specific moment Rory couldn't think about anything, but the way Tristan looked, by the way he was looking at her and his cologne that was intoxicating her sense of smell.

Tristan had her pressed against the door. One hand travelling up her skirt, caressing her thigh as his other hand cradled the side of her face.

"Tristan," Rory moaned as he found the spot on her neck that made her crumple. 


End file.
